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By the time I went to bed last night, I was pretty sure that Donald J. Trump would be my next president. When my body awoke early this morning (I had no idea the time), I pondered whether to turn over and allow myself to check my phone. It seemed unlikely I would fall back asleep with any ease, so I decided to see whether Trump had sealed his victory or if some miracle had occurred.

Like many, I am scared. Not because a Republican has won the White House but because Trump was no ordinary Republican candidate. I’m worried about international affairs and potential wars and nuclear threats. I’m worried about what it means for our diverse nation that a man so associated with bigotry and resentment and ignorance has won the presidency. I’m worried that Trump won’t respect the law or basic principles of our democracy that allow it to function as well as it does.

During the last several months, I have allowed myself to believe that a Trump presidency was indeed a real possibility. As I pondered this, I found that I needed to hope. I suspect some other people out there need a little hope right now too. So I thought I’d share the list of reasons for hope under a Trump presidency that I’ve been working on.

My tone will probably be more optimistic than some can handle at this moment (it will probably be more optimistic than I currently feel). All of us are experiencing this election differently, and I don’t pretend that my reaction is the right one for everyone. But perhaps these words will be encouraging to some.

1. My faith

Politics is not a good place to put your hope. Most of us find something else to hope in. For me, part of that something else is a belief in a God who—eventually, somehow—will ensure that justice and goodness and peace will ultimately win. Every government and every political system is deeply flawed. The question is when—not if—politics will take a dark turn. We must find something else to hope in when these moments come.

2. Our resilience

As a nation, we’ve lived through plenty of dark moments. We fled from our nation’s capital as the British set it ablaze. We pointed our guns toward one another and literally split in two as we fought to preserve our separate visions of who we were as a people. We ran to the banks and found that our deposits were gone forever. We listened on the radio to the news that the Japanese were attacking Pearl Harbor. We saw smoke rise above our cities as racial strife erupted in flames. We stared at our TV screens and witnessed the plane that hit the second tower. Throughout our history, we have seen exactly four presidents be shot and killed.

Somehow, we have always survived.

I’m one of the least patriotic people I know, and believing in my country should be more difficult for me right now than ever before. In many ways, it is. But today I know that I am proud to be an American. And I believe that spirit of patriotism is more important now than it ever has been before in my lifetime. I will not run from my country in the face of adversity. My country needs me now, and I will stand with it. We will survive this together. We will find a way. That’s what we do.

3. The federal bureaucracy

There are many, many fine women and men serving our country, in and out of uniform. They are talented. They are informed. They have great responsibility. The functions of government are far too vast for any one man (or one man and his close associates) to comprehend every detail. Yes, the president wields great power. But he is forced to rely on the expertise, the procedures, and the efforts of the federal bureaucracy. This bureaucracy is incredibly complex. It is not easy to change. It plays a major role in providing information to the president. I suspect many reckless decisions will be avoided because our bureaucracy will have a say in what happens.

4. The law

Laws are not perfectly respected in any society. We’ve seen presidents push the boundaries of their constitutional authority. But we’ve also consistently seen forces push back against overreach (though not always as strongly as we would wish). Compared to many countries, there is great respect for the law in this country, and that means that the president’s power is not unchecked. Trump may push the boundaries, but he will meet resistance. Traditions of press freedom, democratic transition of authority, and respecting the rights of personal and political enemies will not easily be destroyed. When Hillary Clinton was the alternative, many Republicans (elected officials and voters) came to Trump’s side. But I do not believe that means they will tolerate the dissolution of our most deeply-held democratic norms.

5. New awareness

I believe that the rhetoric and substance of Trump’s campaign has worsened certain problems in our society. But it has also served to reveal many pre-existing problems that were largely being ignored (for a variety of reasons) by much of society. In the last few years, we have finally again devoted substantial attention to issues of racism in our society. In recent months, the Trump candidacy has begun spawning important discussions about rural poverty, racial resentment, and intergenerational hopelessness. Despite the Internet allowing us to connect instantly with people in almost any part of the world, we’ve been so disconnected from one another at home that many have been struggling to understand what a Trump supporter even looks like. We can only hope to address our society’s issues if we are aware of them. Trump’s political success has been a major wakeup call to me and many others.

This presidential campaign has both exposed and created deep divisions in our society. There are many wounds in need of healing. Regardless of the outcome, picking up the pieces and trying to move forward as a nation after this election was never going to be an easy task. Many (including people I know and love) are relieved by last night’s results. Many (such as myself) are terrified. I don’t know what our future will look like. But we—you and I—will play a role in it. It’s our job—each of ours—to push forward and face the problems confronting our world. That was true on Monday, and it’s still true today. We have a lot of work to do.

Yesterday I read an article that talked about an incident at a California public school where some students were not allowed to wear American flag shirts during a Cinco de Mayo celebration.

Understandably, some people are pretty upset about potential free speech issues associated with what happened. The whole situation is really messy (with some students threatening violence against the kids sporting American flags), and there are certainly complex constitutional issues worth discussing. But the legal issues are not what I want to talk about right now.

Two things really bothered me about the incident and the article that I read.

First, reading the details of the incident (as retold in a 9th Circuit court decision) makes it pretty obvious that some of the students in this school were not being at all accepting of the Mexican-American students and their culture. During Cinco de Mayo the previous year, “Some students hung a makeshift American flag on one of the trees on campus, and as they did, the group of Caucasian students began clapping and chanting ‘USA'” (9th Circuit court decision). Think about how bizarre it would be to bring an American flag to an Irish pub on St. Patrick’s Day (or to a Synagogue on Yom Kippur) and start chanting “USA!” How is one supposed to interpret that as anything other than opposition to St. Patrick’s Day and–ultimately–to Irish culture in the US?

Of course, there’s no popular perception that Irish people “aren’t assimilating” in the US today (though there almost certainly once was), so it’s hard to picture such an anti-Irish protest actually happening. The wearing of American flags to a Cinco de Mayo celebration happened in a context where many people (including some people I know and love) are truly concerned about Latino-American culture and how it may impact the US. I’ll say more on that in a minute. For now, I just want you to consider how unwelcoming it might feel to have other students provocatively proclaiming their patriotism to the US on a day that is supposed to celebrate the unique culture and experiences of you and your family.

A second thing that bothered me was that the article said “the 9th Circuit upheld the rights of Mexican students celebrating a foreign holiday over those of our own exercising their speech rights.” It’s certainly accurate to note that the court privileged other concerns over free speech rights. But notice the language that’s used in this sentence. It casts things in such stark us-versus-them terms: “the rights of Mexican students celebrating a foreign holiday over those of our own exercising their speech rights” (emphasis added). The wording implies that students of Mexican birth or descent who take offense at students wearing American flags to a Cinco de Mayo celebration are not part of “our own”–not part of the American identity. Even labeling Cinco de Mayo as a “foreign holiday” (despite the fact that it’s probably celebrated more in the US than in Mexico) communicates an assumption about what it means for something to be American. Why can’t a celebration of Mexican-American culture be an American holiday?

Just to be clear, I’m not in any way trying to argue that responding with violence or threats of violence is appropriate. And I’m not trying to make a statement about whether or not school officials responded in an appropriate manner.

What I am saying is that it’s a real tragedy when kids are told by others that their culture is not one worth celebrating.

That’s a recipe for producing shame. Today, I read some powerful words from a Latina woman named Noemi Vega:

I grew up wrestling with the model minority identity, as I would hear statistics about my Latino people that caused me to internalize shame. I felt embarrassed for my people who got pregnant before graduating high school or when my friends would ask why my lunch was a burrito instead of the cafeteria food. In order to overcome all of these negative stereotypes, I tried to be the “best Latina” that I could and earn the best grades that I could, but I never felt like my best was “enough.” Shame prevented me from seeing the beauty of my culture and of who God made me to be. (http://intervarsity.org/blog/importance-understanding-your-latino-identity)

For most people, freedom isn’t found in shedding the cultural identity that they inherited. Freedom is found in learning to see the beauty in who they are. Noemi Vega continues:

As I started to learn about God’s intentionality in designing our cultures, I began to see the beauty in being a Latina. We have a joyful style of worship that celebrates God’s role in our lives and a strong value for familia that helps us be welcoming Bible study members. I have also found that the more I am aware of the gifts from my culture, the more I am able to connect with my familia; instead of shame about our immigrant background or our economic status or our acculturation, I am able to feel embraced by my God who once was shamed on the cross and shamed by being born in the most humble of places. Jesus, who was supremely rejected, supremely welcomes us and calls us friend, brother, sister. We are his familia. (http://intervarsity.org/blog/importance-understanding-your-latino-identity)

Latino culture isn’t ruining America. It’s part of America.

I don’t think we always realize the power that our words can have to slice. When we talk about people needing to speak English or integrate into American society, others hear us saying that there’s something inadequate about who they are. They hear us saying that they need to be more like us. That who we are is better than who they are.

I’ll close by sharing a really powerful article by another Latina woman about the day she gave up her Mexican last name. I highly recommend that you go read the whole thing here, but I’ll also post a short excerpt:

It was sometime in fifth or sixth grade that I started looking for ways to mask my Mexican-ness. I mimicked clothing choices of the preppy white girls, attempted to play sports and tried out to be a cheerleader, got competitive with academics, and tried to maneuver social circles to prove to everyone I wasn’t like those “other Mexicans.” It worked to some extent; I was told multiple times throughout junior high and high school that “Oh, you’re not really Mexican, you’re white,” which I wore like a badge of honor. Because Mexicans got pregnant in high school, Mexicans did drugs and dropped out, Mexicans didn’t go to college, and I was not one of them.

But it didn’t matter what I was or what I wasn’t, because my last name wasn’t something I could hide on an application or a résumé. Years of striving to be different from a stereotype didn’t matter. The minute someone read or heard the name “Rodriguez” they made assumptions – that I’m not educated, that I’m poor, that I’m promiscuous, that I’m unable to write well, and that I’m someone who can’t be trusted. . . .

So when push came to shove, I changed my name to Angela Prilliman.

I saw the opportunity to appear “more white” and finally receive some of the advantages that come along with that change.

This is not a post about what kind of a guy I think Mark Driscoll is. There are already far too many of those.

This post is about church leadership. And power. And disqualification.

I starting thinking about these issues as I read this statement released by the Mars Hill Board of Overseers that addresses Mark Driscoll’s recent resignation.

What stood out to me from the statement were the following two points:

We concluded that Pastor Mark has, at times, been guilty of arrogance, responding to conflict with a quick temper and harsh speech, and leading the staff and elders in a domineering manner. While we believe Mark needs to continue to address these areas in his life, we do not believe him to be disqualified from pastoral ministry.

Pastor Mark has never been charged with any immorality, illegality or heresy. Most of the charges involved attitudes and behaviors reflected by a domineering style of leadership.

Two things made me uneasy. First, it strikes me as odd that the board says Mark has never been charged with “immorality” even though he has displayed arrogance, a quick temper, and domineering leadership. Those characteristics strike me as ones that—at least within a Christian worldview—are clearly immoral. Then again, perhaps their use of the term “immorality” is meant to refer specifically to sexual immorality (maybe such usage is common in some circles). Even so, I wonder why they single out “immorality, illegality or heresy” as three (apparently important) categories of improper behavior to explicitly address. It makes me wonder if the board views those three types of behavior as the primarily ones that would result in disqualification for a minister?

Which leads me to the second thing that made me uncomfortable. In this statement, the board deems a man who has (at times) been quick-tempered and domineering in his leadership to be qualified for a position of pastoral authority. This idea concerns me. Now, I’m sure the board has given a lot of thought to this situation and has reasons why they believe this conclusion is appropriate. There are few details contained in this statement, so I can’t discern what the board has concluded regarding how recently and frequently Mark has been guilty of these offences. And the board doesn’t tell me what they believe would suffice to disqualify a man or woman from pastoral leadership.

In my mind, one of the first reasons you would remove someone from a position of authority is if that person sometimes uses their authority in an destructive fashion—in a manner that disregards and undermines those around them. This is a congregational offense. If you leave domineering people in positions of power, you keep enabling them.

Now, that doesn’t mean that someone who has acted in a domineering fashion can never be put in a position of authority again. But if someone has exhibited a repeated pattern of improper leadership, they almost certainly need to step out of their authority role until they get to a healthier place. They’re not qualified for leadership until that problem is addressed.

In discussing how church leaders are to be chosen, Titus 1:7 (ESV) says that

He must not be arrogant or quick-tempered or a drunkard or violent or greedy for gain

Again, it’s hard for me to know exactly what the board concluded regarding Mark’s behavior. But it’s troubling to me that two of the words used in Titus to describe who should not be a leader (arrogant, quick-tempered) show up in the board’s description of how Mark has transgressed. The most favorable explanation I can come up with is that perhaps the board doesn’t believe that arrogance and quick-temperedness are traits consistently exhibited by Mark, even though Mark has sometimes displayed them.

Stepping back a bit, I’ve heard too many stories of domineering Christian leaders. I hope more Christians will recognize the need to seriously confront instances of inappropriate exercise of authority within the church. When we stand by and allow leaders to use their power in ways that silence others or promote their own gain, we enable them to continue their destructive practices. We allow them to leave behind a hidden trail of bruised and broken victims of their recklessness. Nothing excuses this. It doesn’t matter how inspiring their vision is, how great their teaching is, how many people they attract.

And it shouldn’t take a sex scandal for us to put a stop to it. It’s all too easy to focus on only the more easily measurable commands: don’t commit adultery, don’t be a drunkard, don’t be violent. But let us not fool ourselves into thinking that these are the only things that disqualify a church leader. Or else we may be surprised by the trail of destruction we eventually find.

29 But the lawyer, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

30 Jesus replied, “An Israeli man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he drove by on the other side. 32 So likewise an aid worker, when he came to the place and saw him, drove by on the other side. 33 But a Palestinian, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. 34 He went to him and bound up his wounds, cleaning them carefully. Then he carried the injured man to his own car and drove him to a health clinic and stayed by his side for the whole night. 35 And the next day he took out two hundred dollars and gave them to the nurse, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?”

I’ve read a lot of people saying that the protests in Ferguson are premature, that people need to wait for an investigation and learn all the facts surrounding the shooting of Mike Brown before they react. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know all the facts surrounding the shooting. But I don’t think the people in Ferguson are just reacting to what happened in this one event. They’re frustrated with a police force that’s been mistreating residents for years. So I can understand why they aren’t exactly willing to extend the benefit of the doubt to the police in this one case. The shooting of Michael Brown was just the spark that lit a much bigger fuse.

This is a police force that arrested two journalists who were working in a McDonald’s, and during the arrest, one of the officers “slammed [the journalist’s] head against the glass purposefully on the way out of McDonald’s and then sarcastically apologized for it.” [1]

This is a police force that arrested the wrong guy and then locked him up anyway for “getting his blood on their uniforms” (the arrested man claims he was beaten by the police). Then, the officers offered contradictory statements under oath regarding whether blood ever got on their uniforms:

however lax the department’s system and however contradictory the officers’ testimony, a federal magistrate ruled that the apparent perjury about the “property damage” charges was too minor to constitute a violation of due process and that Davis’ injuries were de minimis—too minor to warrant a finding of excessive force. Never mind that a CAT scan taken after the incident confirmed that he had suffered a concussion. [2]

Of course, every institution has its bad apples. But institutional practices appear to have played a role in allowing such behavior to exist:

“On September 20th, 2009, was there any way to identify any officers that were subject of one or more citizens’ complaints?” he asked.

“Not to my knowledge,” [former police chief] Moonier said.

“Was there any way to identify any officers who had completed several use-of-force reports?”

I get what they’re saying. And I think I actually agree with a lot of it.

Almost everyone has subconscious (or conscious) racial biases which affect how they perceive, for example, a man walking down a dark alley (perhaps not the best example, as Mark Cuban has now acknowledged). Race isn’t the only thing people take into account when perceiving such situations (a bald, white man with lots of tattoos on his face might concern many of us too, as Mark Cuban also pointed out). But the race of a person can affect how many of us perceive people in certain situations. I think that’s one of the points that Mark Cuban and Stephen A. Smith were making.

There’s actually a lot of scientific support for the idea that most people have subconscious racial biases, even people who don’t want to have any racial bias. There’s a book called Blindspot: Hidden Biases of Good People sitting on my desk waiting to be read. I understand that it summarizes (for a popular audience) the mountain of social science research that has accumulated on this topic over the last couple of decades using Implicit Association Tests.

In fact, Anthony G. Greenwald, coauthor of the book and a professor at the University of Washington, did an interview with the Washington Post in response to the Mark Cuban incident. As he explains, “We find that about 75 percent of white Americans, and almost that exact same percentage of Asian Americans, have what we call an ‘automatic white preference’ in a test that compares white and black [races]… Even many black Americans have an automatic white preference, because they’ve been raised in a society that’s white-majority and white-dominant.”

So Mark Cuban is correct?

Well… his point about most people having racial biases is spot on. But there’s a little more to the picture, in my mind.

Setting aside concerns about comparing hoodies to prison-culture tattoos and how such imagery might relate to the Treyvon Martin case (for which Mark Cuban apologized), I guess my big remaining concern (as a white man) is the ways in which Mark Cuban’s and Stephen A. Smith’s words might be received by many white Americans.

Keep in mind, Mark Cuban made these remarks in response to a question about Donald Sterling. Mark Cuban was asked, “How do you prevent that kind of ugliness from getting out? And how do you keep it out of the league?” The first thing he said was, “You don’t.” Several sentences later are his now-[in]famous words.

(To clarify, there are two fairly similar but distinct interviews of Mark Cuban with Inc. magazine that I’ve seen on the Web. The one that strikes me as more provocative is harder to find, but it’s the one I refer to here.)

Using the fact that most (all?) people have subconscious racial biases to justify inaction (or less rigorous action) against overtly racist people is kind of an alarming thought-process (to me at least). But this line of thinking is bolstered by Mark Cuban’s use of the terms “prejudice” and “bigoted” rather than something like “[unintentional] racial bias.”

Now, I’ve watched enough of Mark Cuban’s interviews at this point to realize that he expresses deep concern over minimizing the “prejudices” of himself (except for “safety issues”) and his employees. That’s great, and maybe Mark Cuban is not the real problem.

But I’m worried about what his words mean to other white Americans (of which I am one). I’m worried that, especially as context is lost, his words come to mean that a little racial prejudice is everywhere, and there’s little we can do about it, and maybe it all evens out. It’s not our responsibility.

But the stark reality is that racial biases harm minorities. Even if the biases are unintentional.

Want proof? There’s actually a lot of social scientific evidence (which has been very poorly communicated to the public, in my opinion) indicating that these biases do more than just cause people to walk on the opposite side of the street. Take, for example, the experiment where researchers sent resumes to a bunch of employers in response to job listings. All of the resumes the researchers sent out were identical except that some had a stereotypical “black” name listed on them while the others had a stereotypical “white” name. Employers (who believed the resumes were real) were 33% less likely to call if they were sent a resume from a “black” person. (The experiment is nicely explained in this YouTube video taken from Freakonomics: The Movie.)

Other studies using similar research designs indicate that people with stereotypical “black” names are also less likely to receive a response from their state legislator or a potential landlord. The book Blindspot discusses numerous other studies.

Okay, so there’s some racial bias. And it’s unfair. But life’s not fair, it’s unintentional, and what are you going to do about it?

Well, for starters, I hope that more white people will actually begin to acknowledge that racial bias is still an issue that harms minorities. According to Gallup, 74% of white Americans believe that “blacks have as good a chance as whites in [my] community to get any kind of job for which they are qualified.” Another survey found that 58% of white millennials think that “discrimination against whites has become as big a problem as discrimination against blacks and other minorities.”

In my opinion, it would do our nation’s race-relations a lot of good to have more white Americans come forward and say, “We acknowledge that (often unintentional) racial bias is persistent throughout society, and we know that this, unfortunately, harms minorities. And we want to try to help find ways to counteract this.” Figuring out how to help is the difficult part. I won’t really get into it here, except to note that counteracting racial bias doesn’t necessarily have to look like a bigger government program or an affirmative action policy.

As a final note, I’m concerned that part of the reason the words of figures like Stephen A. Smith resonate so strongly with some white people is because they hear someone talking about a response to racial inequality that requires no action on the part of white Americans. It’s easy to stand by and cheer on a successful African American telling other African Americans to care more about how they present themselves and to stop blaming other people for their failures.

It’s easy to hear someone say that black America needs to change.

But I’m not black. I’m white. And white America needs to change.

It’s time to admit that we’re a part of the problem. It’s time to acknowledge that our (often unintentional) racial biases contribute to the racial disparities in our society.

Not the welfare queens, the high school dropouts, the fast food workers who want a raise.

No, I’m talking about people who believe they’re entitled to have things—healthcare, food, a nice retirement, a good school for their children, whatever—because they earned them. They worked for them, paid for them, saved for them.

These are people who believe they’re entitled (and others aren’t) to things because they’re employed at a decent job. People who act like the wages they earn are solely the result of their own merit while the “handouts” others receive are completely undeserved.

Oh let me count the ways I didn’t earn my success. My mother didn’t smoke while she was pregnant with me (or at any other time), increasing the odds that I would lead the healthy life I’ve enjoyed so far. My mother stayed home and devoted her 24-7 to caring for me and my siblings while my dad worked at a white-collar job that ensured I never knew what it meant to have a material need unmet. My parents did all they could to meet my emotional and spiritual needs as well. I have never heard gunshots outside my house. My friends growing up did not do drugs, shoplift, or carry guns on the streets. Within this context, I thrived throughout my K-12 education, an experience that was tailored to suit my individual interests and learning preferences. While my own dedication and hard work doubtless contributed to my ability to obtain multiple “merit” scholarships for undergraduate and graduate school, I have no doubt that my test scores would have looked quite different if I’d gone to a crappy high school, had apathetic parents, or lacked the raw intellectual abilities that I’ve been granted.

No, I did not earn my success. Sure, I’ve worked hard at times. But there are many women and men more dedicated, hardworking, and virtuous than I who have not been given what I have. I do not deserve it. At most, I have earned a fraction of what I have. I am lucky. Or I have received incredible gifts. I’m humbled and I’m grateful when I think of this.

I will not believe that I am entitled to the resume or wealth I build. They are the fruit of my environment as much as they are the fruit of my labor.

And the truth is a lot of people have little to show after growing up in a crappy environment.

I know I know, life’s not fair. But why is it that Entitled America is so concerned about making sure the rules about how much we get taxed and what the tax dollars go towards are fair but so unconcerned about how unfair it is that some of us had childhoods that set us up for success while others did not? (It turns out that some environmental factors, such as parents’ income, are pretty good predictors of later success.)

Entitled America, before you tell me how unfair it is that someone who doesn’t have a job gets free healthcare, explain to me why you’re not equally passionate about how unfair it is that poor kids in many states have to attend the worst, most dangerous, most underfunded public schools.

Before you tell me how frustrated you are about some affirmative action policy, explain to me why you’re not equally frustrated by the fact that blacks constitute an overwhelmingly disproportionate share of the drug-related prison population despite persistent evidence that blacks do not use or sell drugs more than whites.

Why are you so concerned about making sure that everyone has to earn what they receive once they get to adulthood but are so unconcerned about how uneven the playing field leading to adulthood is?

If you believe that big government is somehow unwise or that universal health coverage will lower the quality of our healthcare, then fine, let’s talk about that. But please, stop acting like poverty is a character flaw and that your earnings are a badge of solely your own virtue. Stop acting like a fair world produced both your success and the plight of the unemployed guy who had to raise himself because his dad was in jail and his mom worked three jobs. Stop acting like it’s morally reprehensible to set up a system that hands people things they didn’t earn unless you’re willing to give up every penny you’ve ever earned that could be traced to something you’ve been handed.

I will not be offended if the government taxes me at a higher rate when my income surpasses that of most Americans.

I won’t complain if my hard-earned tax dollars are used to pay for healthcare, education, or food for those who have less.

I will not cry foul if I am passed over for a job in favor of someone else who comes from an underrepresented background.

My name is Nathan Favero, and I have a lot of privilege. This is my blog.